


just be

by cuubism



Series: where all light is mute [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 12:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21319879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuubism/pseuds/cuubism
Summary: Alec, stop thinking, Magnus says in his head. Just be.Alec tries. He tries to just...be. In this room, in this life. In this body. But settling in this place is so hard when his brain keeps wanting to run away from it.Who knew just existing could be such a big ask?Alec's suffering from anxiety. Magnus helps him through it.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: where all light is mute [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691833
Comments: 35
Kudos: 216





	just be

**Author's Note:**

> in which the writer projects way too much onto Alec

The shower isn’t fucking hot enough, and Alec’s going to slam his forehead against the wall. 

He needs it to _ burn_, to sear off his skin and let the soul rattling around inside fly loose, but these goddamn useless Institute pipes can only offer lukewarm water at best, so he just stands under the spray —

shivering, in a lovely manifestation of the vibrations he can feel down to his spine, his cells. _ Move, move, move, move, _ his body is saying, but move _ where, _ he doesn’t know, _ why_, he doesn’t know. 

He just knows he can’t be still. 

He shuts the water off with a jerk, towels himself dry with too much speed, throws on the first clothes he can find in the drawer: boxers and a t-shirt. And then just paces, tugging at his hair, willing his brain to stop running in circles because it’s three in the goddamn morning and he needs to, wants to sleep. Is desperate for it.

He just finished a two-hour session of pounding sandbags in the training room, trying to burn away the rippling energy, and he wonders if he needs to go again. Wonders how many hours he’d need to spend beating himself up before he could finally think straight, wonders which would give out first, his heart or his brain. 

There’s no reason for this to be happening to him, not _ now. _ There wasn’t even a patrol today, no danger, no injury, no reason for him to be jumping out of his own skin, feeling like he’s losing control, he should be— he should be able to manage his own damn body by now, should be able to—

_ — stop. _

It’s Magnus’s voice that breaks through the ascending swirl, quiet but commanding. A memory, or maybe just an understanding of what he would say if he were here. And Alec realizes he’s hyperventilating, pacing in so small a circle that he’s made himself dizzy with it. 

He braces himself in the corner of the room, slides down to sit on the floor. With the two walls and the floor holding him up, preventing movement, he feels his breathing calm a little. His body settle. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to limit sensation, digs his nails into his palm in a way he knows he shouldn’t but can’t quite stop himself from giving into at the moment, not when it throws a wrench in the runaway wheel, snaps his body back in line with his brain — just for a second.

He should call Magnus. Magnus would want to help. But there isn’t really anything Magnus can do to help. But he’d want to be there anyway. But it’s three in the morning, Magnus will be asleep. He needs his sleep. But he’ll be upset in the morning if Alec doesn’t wake him up. But is that really so bad if it means Magnus gets more rest? But— 

— _ Alec, stop thinking, _ Magnus says in his head. _ Just be. _

Alec tries. He tries to just..._be_. In this room, in this life. In this body. But settling in this place is so hard when his brain keeps wanting to run away from it.

Who knew just _ existing _could be such a big ask? 

He presses his palms to the floor, tries to feel its solidity. Stretches his muscles to feel their strength, their limitations, the slight pain when they’re pushed too far — which he tries not to revel in too much. 

Feels his body start to reconnect with the air. 

His stomach rumbles with hunger for the first time all day. 

His blood is still thrumming with disconnected nervousness, but this feels like a step forward. Towards just _ being. _

He calls Magnus. 

“Alexander?” Magnus’s voice doesn’t sound bleary with sleep, like Alec had expected — almost as if Magnus had sensed something was wrong and had stayed up, waiting. 

Guilt flares in Alec’s stomach and he forces it back down. He would have done the same for Magnus if their roles were reversed. This is what they do for each other.

“Hi,” Alec says, gratified to find that his voice only shakes a little. He shoves down every instinct he has and doesn’t apologize for the late hour. Magnus would only tell him not to. “Could you portal me home?” 

A portal spins into existence a few feet away, and Magnus doesn’t say anything until Alec’s stepped through it and into the loft. As he’d expected, Magnus is in the living room, in sleep clothes but looking wide awake. 

Magnus takes in Alec’s attire, his forehead creasing with concern. “What’s wrong, darling?” 

“Nothing,” Alec says, because it’s technically true. Then he thinks about it some more. “Everything.” 

Magnus takes a step closer, rests a hand on his arm, rubs up and down. Part of Alec, the still-jittery, disconnected part, wants to jerk away from the touch — but instead, he leans into it, lets Magnus’s calm and comfort soak into him. 

Magnus’s expression softens in understanding. “I see.” And Alec believes it — that he really does see, does understand. 

“Will you let me help you?” 

It’s still so hard, sometimes, to ask for what he wants. For what _ he _ wants, not what he wants for someone else, not what he wants because of someone else — what he wants _ for _ and _ because of _himself. 

But Magnus’s eyes are bright and warm, unglamoured. He’s already offering what Alec wants. Alec only has to reach out and accept it.

“Can you hold me?” 

Alec’s chest feels lighter the moment the words leave his lips, a sudden release of pressure.

Magnus’s lips curve into a gentle smile. His hand slides up to cup Alec’s cheek. “Of course, my love.” 

Magnus seems to sense that Alec still can’t move very far, so he takes his hand and leads him over to the couch, tugs him down and maneuvers him until Alec has his back pressed to the back of the couch, head tucked under Magnus’s chin and Magnus’s arms wrapped around him. 

The opposing pressures are perfect to help settle him, and Alec sighs against Magnus’s chest. Magnus snaps his fingers so that a blanket falls over them, rubs up and down Alec’s back in a soothing gesture. 

“Did something happen?” Magnus asks. 

“Not in particular,” Alec says. “I’ve just been jumping out of my skin all day. Just one of those days, I guess.” 

“Ah yes,” Magnus says into his hair. “The inescapable burden of physicality. It does tend to catch up with one at inopportune moments.” It’s a joke, and also not a joke at all.

Alec nods against his chest. “You had already pretty much pulled me out of my spiral by the time I called you, though.” 

“_I_did?” 

“Mmmhmm. Your voice in my head, memories of things you’ve said to me before, I guess.” 

Magnus reaches up to run his fingers through Alec’s hair. “Like what, may I ask?” 

Alec tilts his head up, both to press into the touch and to try to meet Magnus’s eyes, which is not easy in this position. “‘Stop thinking. Just be.’” 

Magnus smiles and presses a soft kiss to his lips. He has to crane his neck to do it, but doesn’t seem to mind. “It took me a long time to learn that one myself, I must admit. I’m glad it helped you.” 

Alec hums and nestles his face back into Magnus’s neck, feeling the fluttering under his skin settle by degrees as Magnus resumes stroking his hair and crooks one leg up over his to pull him in tighter. Warmth spreads through him from Magnus’s body, gentler than what he’d wanted from the shower but more effective for it. 

Touch, apparently, is more effective in slowing his thoughts than hurting himself or burning himself or exhausting himself — but Alec thinks he knew that already. 

A part of him is still whirring, relentlessly thinking, itching to jump up and run out into the cold until sunlight breaks over the horizon or his body trembles apart — whichever comes first. But a bigger part of him is content to stay warm in Magnus’s arms, moonlight spilling over their entangled bodies, to give himself as long as it takes to resettle, as long as it takes to just be.


End file.
